by C.T. Millis
Chapter 4
James held onto his own hands under his covers that night and prayed to God for it to snow. So much snow that he couldn’t go to school the next day. So much snow that he couldn’t leave his house for three weeks. So much snow that Sonny would forget about what happened in the fun of the weekend. Then, to himself, he started asking his dad for snow.
I know I’m not like you, you said I was a lot like mom, but you said you were proud of me. He thought about Sonny’s tardy fists, a year older than his. I really need it to snow tomorrow, a lot, so I don’t have to go to school. He remembered how strong his father was whenever he shoveled the walk. I’ll shovel for mom, she won’t even have to get out of bed. I can’t fight anyone; it’s not right for me. He thought about how big Sonny was and how fighting back would just make him angrier. You said you were proud of me, if you are proud of me, send snow.
He turned again in his bed, closed his eyes, and listened to the wind stealth across his bedroom window.